The Houseless
by EmptyOrFull
Summary: My first Harry Potter fic! Please read, I put on a summary... But I don't have any clue how to do that without giving up something, you'll have to read it to find out! Planning on slash
1. Chapter 1

I sit there, the cold british air bites at my nose, but it's nothing compare to other colds I have experienced. Colds full of flying ice, snowflakes so sharp they burned when they hit your face, howling winds, and blinding whirls of white. Not really, but I remember those things and more, like dreams. I can feel the cold sharpness of them just thinking about them. I don't bother to cover myself up though, there's no snow on the ground even. I can't help but feel slightly amused by how Uncle Vernon was hoping I'd freeze to death out here, with no snow even drifting down from the sky. Silly man, hateful, spiteful, stupid man. I can feel the anger creeping in, the bad thoughts, I try to focus on other things instead. But there aren't other things, not light, amusing, simple things, so I let the anger simmer as I think about the hunger, how its making me nauseous, the bruises blooming up my back, the cuts and scars from the belt and such. Dudley getting pamper, every possible affection, my anger keeps me warm. For hours after Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's guests leave, even in the cupboard as I listen to the snap of the locks sealing me in. Anger is very useful, dangerous, but useful.

-()-

I stare at the eggs frying in the pan, hissing and popping in butter. Petunia tells me to stop frowning. I am not frowning, I am impassive I want to say, but I don't. I smile as I flip the eggs, fry the bacon, cut oranges. I smile as I serve it, smile when Vernon hits me for not making his eggs right, smile as I watch them eat, smile as I clean up there plates, taking all of the scraps I can find. I hate Dudley, but he leaves the best scraps, I think he does it on purpose. Dudley leaves me alone when his parents aren't around for the most part, I think since he has no real reason to hate me, therefore he doesn't really want to hurt me, the scraps ease his conscience. I don't care, its food. Food is important. Clothes is important. And it doesn't matter how you get it as long as you do.

-()-

When I was younger, and they'd have me locked in the cupboard for entire days, I couldn't help but sit there and stare at the door, waiting for somebody, anybody to open it, but I hated that. The hoping that someone was going to tell me to come out, that I had to do all their work for them, just so I was not in here, in the dark, alone. Now I think of how silly I was, the cupboard is like my safe place, no one in here well call me a freak, a monster, no one in here insults me because there is no one but me in here. No one well beat me, or bother me, I am alone. The cupboard has taught me things, how to wait, how to not want things, to be uncaring, how to not need more than what I have. It's taught me a lot things, somethings I think I haven't even noticed I'd learned them. The cupboards the only place I can be the real me. The only thing I have to worry about in the cupboard is Vernon, he sometimes comes for me, and in here I am cornered, there is nowhere to hide from him. But I have long stop trying to hide, I won't give him the satisfaction of a chase.

-()-

It had been relatively good of the late, Dudley would be going to school soon, Vernon's work must be going well, he hasn't beat me lately, and Petunia had gotten some good gossip or was happy that Dudley was going to school. I had made breakfast and while the Dursleys ate I went to collect the post. I flip through it with practice, sorting the trash from things of importance, thats when I see it. The thick paper and red seal. A tremor passes through me, I feel like I've seen it before, this seal and the symbol above it. I turn it to see who it's addressed to. Harry Potter, The Cupboard under the stairs, 4 Pivet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. A smile slips on my face at how 'under' its emphasized, but then I frown, just a little, who sent this I wonder as I walk in the dining room, passing Uncle Vernon the post. I begin to tear into my first letter. Dudley eyes my letter in shock, "Look what Harry's got!"

Petunia's gaze fastens in on the letter, gasping. "Vernon!" She screeches.

Uncle's pudgy finger try to tear it from me, normally I would have let him in fear of a beating, but I slap his hand away, hissing angrily. I draw myself up to my full height, instinctually, to intimidate him. He draws back to his chair, fearful. How odd, he's never found me scary in any nature, I'm just a freak, lower then him, worthless because I don't fit his ideas of perfect. I glare at them all as I defiantly slip my finger into the opening of the envelope, my eyes never leaving them as I tear it open. I look down, pulling out the letter.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?" I whisper, looking up at Petunia when she makes another sharp gasp. "I've been accepted apparently." I keep my face clear of emotions, and turn to leave. I need to read the whole thing. But I feel that I am going, and nothing can stop that, not even me. I have a strange way of knowing these things. Somedays I hate how I just know, how the coldness of the knowledge hangs on me, so certain even when I don't know why.

"Give that to me, boy." Vernon stands, angry, his momentary fear forgotten and hand extended. I turn slowly to face him on, I don't know were this defiance came from, but I like it.

"No." I shake my head slightly, "No." I repeat, my voice frosty. "I don't think so." He stares at me shock, I have never really gone against him.

-()-

I never got to finish the letter, Vernon took it from me, than gave me a beating that I'll remember for a long time. He made me hold the letter as it burned, but in the cupboard I watch in morbid fascination as the burn marks fade to scars. Major injuries normally do, its the smaller ones I have to wait on, they don't heal, I still have scars, but they don't hurt as much as what made them. I am going to this Hogwarts, something in me tells me too. I think I'll trust myself, I haven't failed myself yet. Plus, perhaps I can be my real self at this Hogwarts.

Vernon locked me up, a punishment for what I did. I glare out the slots of the door. The letters from Hogwarts keep coming, more each day. Even on Sunday. I listened to their screams from the cupboard, I don't know what happened, and I don't care. Tonight is my birthday, I'll be eleven. In celebration of the vent I kick the door right off the wall. I lay there quietly then, I haven't thrown up yet, I'm glad. I throw up when I get too hungry.

-()-

A woman stands in front of a house, a cloak covers her, but I can see the long, sculpted bottom half of her pale gold face. I can see her tears, the tremble of her lips. I stand by her side, she takes a deep breath, spilling more tears at whatever she smells. "Death." She says to no one in particular. The door of the house swings open for her, I follow her as she slowly wanders through the house, murmuring to herself. She pauses in front of something at the top of the steps, then keeps walking, I gasp, its a dead man. He lays splayed a crossed the floor and steps, his eyes empty and skin pale and cold speaks of being long dead. She pauses again in front of a bedroom with the door open, I catch up to her, looking in. A dead woman is on the ground with her red hair all tangled. The woman sighs tiredly, looking about. But there is no where else to look for whatever she can't find. She collapses, the trembles get worse, I can actually hear her crying now. "No." She moans, "You never listen, do you?" She straightens suddenly, and hurries over to the crib, leaning on it to look at its occupant. She snarls in disappointment. A little black haired boy, is he...? The woman reaches down, her long fingers wrap around the baby, she hefts him into her arms. "Not dead, but not alive either." She whispers. Rocking the child. "What to do?" She says mournfully. Then she rips into the little child's throat with her white, white teeth, red stains her, I watch as she swallows. I know her. Then everything shudders. I wake up.

-()-

Something is pounding at the door, I join the Dursley's there. They cower at every bang, it doesn't help with how its storming outside. I don't feel particularly afraid, concerned, but not afraid. The door falls down, a giant man stands in the doorway, he steps in slowly. The Dursleys whimper collectively in front of me. Vernon grips his gun. The man sighs from behind his unruly beard and long brown hair. "Sorry about that." He gestures to the door, picking it up and pushing it back in the door frame with his huge hands.

"I demand you leave at once, you are breaking and entering!" Vernon shouts, pointing his gun at the man.

The giant reaches over and bends over the metal barrel of the gun, "Oh, dry up you old prune." He turns to Dudely, ignoring Vernon and Petunia who cowers behind him. "I haven't see you since you were a baby Harry, but you're a bit bigger than I excepted."

Dudley goes pale, shaking his head. "I.. I'm not Harry." The words trip out of his mouth, each attempting to make it out first.

"I am." I sigh, who is this man, I feel insulted he thought I was Dudley, but he did say he hasn't seen me since I was a baby.

"Of course you are! Got something for ya, not everyday you turn eleven." He had me a white box. I open it.

The manners Petunia engrained in me kick in. "Thank you." Its a hideous pink cake with green wi=riting, smells good, probably tastes good, but the colors clash. I look up at him, there isn't much else to do. "Excuse me, but who are you?"

He grins, or at least I think he does. "Rubeuts Hagrid, keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts." He huffs, "Course, you know all about Hogwarts."

I blink, thats the place in the letters. "No, not really. Its a school."

"No? Didn't you wonder how your parents learned it all?" I give him a look, what? "You're a wizard Harry."

"Mmm?" I murmur, well it is Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Perhaps...

"A wizard." The man says cheerfully. "A thumping good one to I'd bet."

"No." The word comes out before he can continue, I'm no wizard, I know this. The man look at me in shock. "No," I say again, gently this time. "I-I can't be a wizard. I mean... I'm Harry." A petulant, begging, quality enters my words. "Just Harry."

"Well, just Harry." The man says kindly. "Did ya ever make something happen? When you were angry or scared, and ya couldn't explain it?

"Yes." I whisper. I had done things. Like the door to the cupboard door, it had mysteriously disappeared when Vernon went to fix it, the burn mark, all those cuts. I finger my hair, it goes down my back, slightly wavy, like the wind had just blown through it, didn't matter how many times Petunia would shear it off. It be back by the next morning and even longer than before. She had long given up. He hands me a letter, the same ones that have been arriving lately. I read it out loud.

Vernon grabs it from my hand at 'Hogwarts'. "He's not going, we swore we'd put a stop to this rubbish when we took him in."

I grab the front of his stupid, fluffy robe and drag him down to be level with me, my strength surprises everyone I think. "You knew?" I hiss out from clenched teeth. "You knew about this and you didn't tell after all this time?"

"Of course we knew." Petunia snapped. "How could we not, my parent were so proud when your mother got her letter. We have a witch in the family. Oh, she was so perfect, I was the only one who saw her for what she was. A freak!" I release Vernon, my attention solely for Petunia and her hateful words. "Then she met that Freak Potter and had you, and I knew you'd be a Freak too."

Hagrid bristles at that. "He is leaving." He grabs me by the shoulder. "Pack your things." He shoots a bolt of light from his pink umbrella at Dudley, a pig tail sprout from his fat behind.


	2. Chapter 2

It was hard packing, that was sarcasm if you didn't notice. I packed nothing really. Just stuffed my face, and made a quick visit to the loo and went with this Hagrid. So hard, so difficult, leaving the Dursleys. Just heartrending. We went to the Leaky Cauldron first, that's when I realized how important the name Harry Potter was. I also decided that the Dark Arts couldn't be to dangerous if this Quirrel man was to be the new Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher. Couldn't be, not with a man like that. Something deep in me sniggered, _No danger to one such as me._

-()-

Diagon Alley was a marvel, I know it should have shocked me, but it felt like I knew this place, like I had spent much time in it. Hagrid said we'd start my school shopping, but.. "Hagrid, I haven't any money, how can I buy this all." I trail my hand down the smooth paper of the list.

"We'll stop by Gringots, of course. Safest place there is, besides Hogwarts." I blink, something about that statement seems absurd to me, but I don't know why.

-()-

The creature stares down at me from its desk and over its long nose. Its a goblin, I don't question this knowledge, if my head tells me its a goblin, it is a goblin. "Harry Potter would like to make a withdrawal from his vault." Hagrid just isn't capable of anything less then booming.

Its seems to sneer, but maybe thats just what goblins do. "Does Harry Potter have his key?"

Hagrid blinks. "Its here somewhere." He paws through his coat.

The goblin sighs, or sneers, still not sure, then turns to me. "Hold out your hand." I do, his long pale one wraps around mine, he pricks me, good and hard, so that a few drops of blood fall in a silver bowl. I feel this panic, deep and wild, as the goblin frowns into the bowl, an eyebrow raised, but then he smiles, actually smiles. "M'lady." He whispers so quietly, I'm certain only I hear him. He turns to another goblin, snapping an order at him. The goblin returns with a package, he give it to me. He whispers again,"Read the letter and follow it to the T." He hands me a small gold key, then speaks loudly so Hagrid well pay some attention. "Here you are **Mr.** **Potter**."

Hagrid hands him a letter. "From Dumbeldore its about you know what in you know which vault." The goblin sighs at Hagrid's loss of tact. He summons a goblin to assist us.

-()-

The image of all that gold well be forever seared into my mind. It should have made me thrilled to the core, but I only felt a little cheer, and a little unimpressed deep down. Just gold? Didn't they ever get bored of it? I need something fuller than a mountain of gold. I think Hagrid gave it to me. In the form of a beautiful snowy owl, I named her Hedwig, she is my birthday present, my first. She likes to nibble my ear affectionately. Everything was good until Hagrid left me to go into Olivander's and get my wand, all on my own. I walked through the door tense, this place gave me shivers, they seem to be rage, sadness, and thrill all in one. "Hello?"

An old man pops out from one of the many shelves. "Ah, I was wondering how long tell you'd come. It seems like yesterday your parents were here, getting their wands." He slips a box off a shelf, handing me a dark wooden shaft with a simple handle. I stare at him taking it, it makes me feel a little nauseous. "Well? Give it a twirl."

I do, whipping it towards a shelf of more boxes. Crash. A whole shelf explodes outwards, wands rain down, undamaged, but scattered. "Sorry." I gasp, setting down the wand as if it was entirely to blame.

"No, that won't do." He murmurs. Handing me another of pearly wood and gentle swirls. I take, almost dropping it immediately, it burns me. I feel sick to the core of my being. I hear him say something about dragon heartstring being the core of this wand. I swing it randomly without looking and set it down quickly as a few shelves, only the wood, completely dissipate into ashes, glass shrieks and shatters, the man looks at me, alarmed. "Certainly not!"

He wanders about through the remaining shelves, muttering to himself. Something bumps my foot. A wand, light in color, a simple but elegant handle carved into it. I pick it up, it feels familiar, I know this feeling. I don't remember where, but I've felt this. Warmth floods me with what feels like pleasure, and contentness. "Hawthorn wood, eleven inches and supple, the core is a Phoenix feather." He eyes meet mine and then opens his mouth to say more.

"I'll buy it." My voice low and melodious, musical even. I can feel my eyes softening as I look at it, I don't want to listen to the old coot. I drop a hand full of gold on the counter. "For your troubles."

-()-

Hagrid sends me on the train with simple instructions, get on the train, go in a compartment, and stay there. But you know what, I did eleven years of listening. I want to explore. So I do find a compartment, I do load my things in there, making sure a seat well be open for me when I return. Then run out the doors and straight into some boy, I hiss in irritant from the floor, he snarls back. "Practicing to be a Slytherin, aye? You'll fit right in with those snakes."

"Well, well, Harry Potter." A male voice sneers from behind the boy.

The boy pales. "Harry Potter?" He whispers, looking at my forehead, I brush some hair aside so he can see the one scar of my people apparently know of. He's push aside to reveal a pale skinned blond who watches me with his grey eyes. He smiles and sneers at the same time, impressive. "I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy." He nods to his two beefy companion. "This is Crabbe and Goyle." Hello they both mumble. Draco offers me his hand, I take and he helps me back up.

I smile wildly back, eye dancing with amusement, I mock a bow. "Such a great honor to meet a Dragon." And as I say, I realize I mean it, I well remember this meeting for along time. A child my age, who doesn't out right hate me, and actually helped me of apparently his own free will.

"Think my name is funny do you?" He says, he thinks I'm insulting him, maybe a little, but more like teasing in my opinion.

"Oh no." I wave my hands at my wild black hair. "I mean, my name is Harry, and look at my hair." I pull a strand forward, running my finger down its length to emphasize how long it is. Crabbe or Goyle, they seem the same to me, doesn't seem to get though. "My name sounds like hairy, h-a-i-r-y." Than the huge boys laugh. Draco frowns, I believe he prefers to be the center of attention. "I best be going, good bye." They nod, and I go off, pretending to have a destination. I don't though, so in the end I wander about until I realize that I'm in front of my compartment.

-()-

A girl, Hermione Granger, and boy, Ron Weasley, are also in the compartment now. Nice kids, Granger likes books, she'll be smart. Weasley can't get over my scar for some reason, well, apparently I end some Dark Lord, which I assume is impressive, that nobody well say the name of, reign as a baby when he cast a killing curse at me and it rebounded. I think its silly. But I do like his simplicity, I know what is going through his head every twitch of his lips, crease of his brows, and blink of his eyes. I think they are unsure of me, they like me, but they can feel something is off about me, but they seem to put it down to ending this He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

* * *

><p>So, anyone liking this so far?<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

I glare at this hat as McGonagal gestures for me to take my seat to be sorted. "How can this hat know me well enough to make the right choice?" I ask. "It's never met me before and I would think it'd take more than a few minutes to make a decision thats going to effect the next seven years of my life!"

The professor blinks, why do I feel as though no one had thought of this before? She puts it on my head. _Ah, a lier_ _in my midst,_ it whispers in my head. _A lie so well told that even you, its teller, are fooled. But for all your lies, you are also quite truthful, lies and truths from you however are so interwoven, it hard to tell which is which when it comes to you, truthfully. Determined, cunning, unafraid, intelligent, the possibilities are only limited by yourself when it comes to you. I have no house for you and your kind._**_ But I must have a house,_** I think back, **_I must belong to something._** _Then pick one._

I frown, everyone is watching me. From what I've been picking up on since arrival is that everyone sees me as the Savior of the wizarding word, but I'm no savior. I couldn't even save myself when it mattered most, I touch the largest scar at the crook of my left shoulder through the heavy layers of fabric unconsciously. No, I am no savior, I need to distance myself from these people. I need to send a clear message, don't look to me for anything, you don't know me. They think they know me, from all their little stories. Gyffindor isn't an option, they have the good guys, I am not going to be their Savior. Slytherin is also out, I'm not bad, and I collected from how everyone sneers at the mention of Slytherins they have a reputation that isn't so good. Hufflepuff then, or Ravenclaw? No, I shouldn't have to hide, why should I? Didn't I decide I was done following rules? That I was going to be no matter what the consequences?

"HOUSELESS!" The hat bellows.

I hear a collective gasp from the professors. The other students look confused. Dumbledore quiets everyone, then asks, "Are you sure?" The hat nods, if hats can do that... Dumbeldore tells me to sit were I wish. I go sit by Ron and Hermione, Ron waved me over. Might as well. Draco hasn't been sorted yet.

-()-

Draco got into Slytherin, I feel happy for him, it seemed quite important to him. Dumbeldore has me go to his office so he can further explain the houseless to me.

-()-

He offers me lemon drops, I take one, never had them before, I decide I like the sour sweetness of them and savor it slowly, the rest I tuck in my pockets and up my sleeves. "Mr. Potter, I want you to fully understand your position as the only houseless in Hogwarts. You're my first houseless, if you are curious, so this well be a learning experience for the both of us." He summons a book from somewhere in the room, accio is the spell for summoning things apparently. I make a mental note to test this theory later. "A houseless belongs to neither of the houses, they can not participate in the house competitions. They may receive detentions, but points can not be taken from them as they have none. You have no assigned dorm, you must follow every the rules that apply to boys when in the houses dorms and commons..."

I let the old man blab on, it concerns me little in the end because I pretty much follow all the normal rules I had already known of, accept for the fact I can't participate in house competition, and such.

-()-

You know, the fact that I don't have an assigned dorm never really hit me in Dumbledore's office. But it does now as I stare at the things I now call mine, it does as I find out there is no where for me to sleep or keep my things, at all. If there is a plus to all of this, I have no curfew, very little is off limits for me. I wander about Hogwarts for a bit, then curl up in a window sill, "Accio my school supplies." The things come flying at me with a startling speed and crash into the wall right below my window sill, startling me, I blink slowly, maybe I should think it through a little more next time. I like this particular window, I can see this huge lake of blacken waters. I rather like to right here, it's even bigger and wider then my bed at the Dursley's. I bunch up my cloak as a pillow and go to sleep looking out over the black waters and the moon they reflected.

-()-

Something pokes me, its hard, and thin. I dislike it. I take a blind swing at it, sleepily, really its more like a warning. Back off, I want to sleep.

"Ah!" A familiar voice squeaks. "Did you see that?! He tried to get me!"

A girl speaks. "You poked him with your wand Ron, I doubt its a pleasant experience."

I open my eyes to turn the power of my glare on the speakers. "Can I help you." I twist so my back cracks, the popping of my bones startles them. I smile.

The girl. Hermione Granger, I remind myself, straightens. "We noticed you were still a sleep Harry, you're going to miss breakfast at this rate."

I glare at her, who gave her permission to use my first name? The only person who could dream of using the name Harry was nobody currently. Nobody was definitely my favorite out of everybody. I sit up, my feet press in to the corner of the windowsill, knees bent. "Thank you Miss Granger, now please hurry on, I'll make it with time to spare." The polite coldness I had come to use with the Dursleys comes out with ease. She blinks, startled. They leave. My coldness well repeal them, keep them away, they may try to get close…But I feel they aren't of supreme importance.

-()-

Breakfast is nothing of supreme interest. Everyone watches me as I come in, the Gryffindors make room for me at their table. I sit by Draco, grinning at the gasps, he makes me eat a lot, clearly how I didn't seem like I had intentions of eating had been noticed, I like Draco. Maybe I should call him mum. He seems to know I am not normal and my scar has no meaning to him, I wonder what he'd think of the rest of my scars. The other Slytherins seem to care little of me, ignore is more of the right word. But polite, for the most part. Pansy Parkinson takes a great deal of interest in me, I believe it is solely because Draco took interest in me, she clearly likes him.

-()-

It was after breakfast that was interesting. I was heading to class with Draco when Granger went by, I am certain Draco purposely bumped into her, causing her things, mainly textbooks, to fall to the floor. I've never gone to school before, but I don't think this was normal first day stuff from how she looked at him, a little shocked, and confused, brows creased as if to say, why? Then Draco proceed to say, "Sorry, didn't see you there mudblood."

Mudblood, the word makes me feel angry, like he is insulting me by just saying it. This word isn't new to me, even though I don't remember ever hearing it. Even though I don't have the faints clue as of what it means. I watch quietly as Malfoy proceeds to berate her and then walks off as if nothing happened. He stops, turning around when I don't follow, staring at me. I deliberately stoop down to pick up some of Granger's things, smiling apologetically at her. "Thanks." She whispers. I smile again, shaking my head, it was nothing.

"What's a mudblood?" I meant it innocently, truly. Never heard of the term before. Even though something in me tremors with recognition and in turn anger.

She bows her head, "It means I'm Muggleborn. My parents didn't have magic."

I tap my mouth, thinking. "Then why not call you muggleborn, why mudblood? Blood isn't brown, I'll tell you that from experience." I look at Malfoy, eyes hard. "Its an insult, isn't it?"

She nods mutely. Malfoy looks a little angry at how I am seemingly taking Granger's side. "Come on Harry." He calls.

I laugh, turning to Granger. "Why, you and I had this exact conversation this morning!" I whip my head towards Malfoy, glaring. I've only known him for a short amount of time, maybe I made a mistake in giving him any amount of trust. His behavior towards others tells of that. He's a bully. He just doesn't see me as prey, perhaps an equal. "I never gave you permission to use my name, Mr. Malfoy." For second he looks hurt, but he storms off quickly. I do feel a little hurt though, he was more then willing at breakfast to make friendly banter with me, but now he doesn't want to even spit out some snappy come back. Maybe he didn't care, maybe he just was bored, people do thing in search of something to drive off boredom, Vernon beat me for that sole reason some nights. Maybe its like that.

-()-

I can't help but be a little moody as the day goes on. Snape, he teaches potions, seems to hate me, or is at least trying to. He called me the new celebrity and proceeded to try and humiliate me with my lack of knowledge of herbs….Except I knew exactly what he was talking about, answering his questions in a bored fashion similar to his. Which was entirely alarming as I have never heard of these things before, should I rely on this knowledge that just pops up? This school has a library though, Hermione is constantly reading.

-()-

I visited Hagrid with Ron, Hagrid had this enormous dog. A hoarhound, again the knowledge surged forward. But the strangest thing happened, the dog, Fang, started snarling at me, like he was going to attack. But I hissed at him and… He backed down immediately, he now does exactly as I tell him. I like that, but it does concern me how he whimpers and tucks his tail between his legs, should he fear me?

-()-

My flying lessons and Draco's are one and the same. Draco wouldn't stop bragging about what a wonderful flyer he is, I told him to prove it. I held my hand over the broom I had, it flew up to my hand, I sat on it like a bench, swing my legs back and forth as I hover above the ground. "I'm waiting Dragon." I wanted to add little dragon, but I really felt that would be a little too much. That's when Nevilm, I think he's called that… Summoned his broom, trying to copy me, it smashed through his wrist and into his face. Madame Hooch rushed him off to the hospital wing.

My eyes wander to the sparkling ball he dropped, glass, disappointing, but Draco follows my gaze. "A remembrall, Neville'd probably forget his head without it." He says as he picks it up. "Maybe I should keep it."

I shrug, he's baiting me, does he think I'll bite? I laugh internally, your going to have to try harder than that little Dragon. But than Hermione had to speak up. "Do something Harry!"

I glare at her. "Is it my responsibility? No, I am not your little champion, you all seem to be under some impression that I'm am a good little wizard, I'm not. And why should I stop Draco from taking something he so desperately needs? Neville may forget his head, but even he remembers his manners."

The slytherin's laughed, Draco blushed angrily, and judging from how Hermione's eye's widened I had just blown her image of 'Harry Potter' to pieces. "Maybe I should see how many pieces it'll mak-"

I hold up my hand, enough, this is childish. I want this to be over, the ball flies to me, smacking into my hand at my whispered accio remembrall. "Little Dragon," I take Hermione's hand and press the silly thing into her palm. "Please stop."

-()-

I still eat with Hufflepuffs tonight, really, I don't see the big deal. But it apparently is because they all fawn over me, _'Do want some of this Harry?'_ As long as I eat. Does it matter where? I leave the hall early, summoning my things. I need a place to sleep, in the end I again settle for a window sill, this time it over looks a forest, dark, and thick. Neville finds me to say thanks, he heard what had happened. "Are you..Sleeping…In the window?"

"I'm doing homework." Yeah, I sleep in window sills, have a problem?

"Ok-Okay." He seems to not notice that I never answered his question, but that was what I wanted, so it works. I sigh as he leaves, turning so I can lay my face against the cold glass of the window. I am surround by people, but I feel a little…Alone. But its just the first day. Things change.

* * *

><p>LalALAlalaLalalAlA! bored, hope you liked it!<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

I've little patience for Charms, and Potions, and well, the only class that really has my interest is Transfiguration. I think I unnerve the professors, I already know the lessons, I've practically got them memorized. Even though I've never taken them before. Professor Binns and I but heads constantly. We agree on most of the magical history when it comes down to just dates, events, who was the victor, the facts. But opinion wise and anything that is even slightly opinionated gets the farther back in history it is, and I was under the impression Binns didn't even really like Magical History.

We argue in front of the whole class, he keeps getting angrier. The goblins had no allies he claims, but I know they did. I think of dark hair and pale skin. I repeat myself over and over. No magical creature would have done nothing while wizards wronged the goblins, even if they hated goblins. Binns said the goblins weren't wronged, violent images flash through my head, to quick for me to really see them, but they make me angry. "Isn't it wrong?" I hiss, shaking my head like a lion before it roars. The words pour out. Hot, dark, like acid. "You wizards were enslaving goblins as house-elves, ripping families apart, you all looked the other way for Platt. What he did should have given him lifetimes of sentences in Azkaban!" Binns paled and back away from your angry approach. "And who decided that goblins couldn't have wands?" I lean over the cowering man, snarling. "Wizards." That one word comes out of my mouth with a venom to it that makes me ache inside.

"Detention." Binns squeaks out. "Dentition for arguing with your superiors and insulting your own."

I pull back slowly, the Slytherins and Ravenclaws watch silently. I turn to look at them as I head back to my seat in the back, Draco's eye are still wide from the whole debacle. I smirk at him. He blinks.

And I sit in my seat in the back, filling out the homework and refusing to speak to a single soul, not even correcting Binns when he says the wrong years or names anymore. I'm somewhat sick of it, maybe… I just won't speak anymore. I don't want to have to keep my cool, be reasonable and calm while he yells at me, tells me I know nothing. If I don't talk at all… I don't have to deal with him, or, anyone for that matter. That does appeal to me…

-()-

McGonagall actually had to teach me, as did Flitwick. It was embarrassing, I couldn't cast the spells without them going horribly wrong, out of control, once I create a miniature dragon out of Hermione's book. And McGonagall couldn't change it back, she made up some excuse about my magic being uncontrollable and such. But then I remembered how I had summoned the remembrall _without _a wand, and I tried it, switching my wand to my other hand and while pretending to use the wand I made a twirling motion with my right hand. It worked, so now I simply pretend to use the wand in front of others. I've gotten really good at it, now I just have to say the spell, no hand movement, I'm working on getting it down to just a thought. A controlled thought though, not like when I subconsciously, apparently, summoned a bunch of other people's blanket one colder night. It's the only explanation I have, everyone else blamed it on Peeves, but he likes to keep wide birthe of me and also does the most embarrassing show of bowing and called me m'lady. Which Draco likes to tease me about.

Draco is an odd piece of work, I like him quite a bit, but every time he goes near Hermione or any none Slytherin pretty much it goes down hill, but sometimes if their pureblood but not Slytherin it goes decently enough. I'm waiting for a fight to happen between us, but Draco seems to be trying to avoid that, I find the notion.. Sweet? Like a puppy trying to not pee in doors because it knows how you'll blow up. Oh, bad comparison, good thing Draco isn't in my head. That would have made him mad.

One day Hermione brought up Animaguses in class. "How interesting, when well we learn that Professor?"

Her hard eyes snapped onto me. "We do not teach that here Mister Potter. Animagi are people who achieved there abilities through hard, dangerous magic. May I repeat, dangerous."

I sigh, no point in hashing it over. I already got Binns to hate me, I'd prefer to keep it like that. But… Animagi are… Very interesting. I asked Hermione for a list of books on it later.

-()-

Surprisingly, Snape somewhat got over his hatred of me. I also won him over with my innate knowledge and expertise of potions, and apparently everything else. While everyone else brews Forgetfulness potions, I finished mine last week as Snape gave me a syllabus, no point in making someone who clearly was head I get to brew for fun today. I let my… Instincts? Can I call them that? Its like listening to my own brain, my brain likes to name every ingredient I look at and list its uses and effects. I drop in a few, stir this way and that, crush some beans with a silver blade, plop in more ingredients along with the beans making it turn to a black that whispers of cold nights that freeze fear and numb the mind. Snape comes by to survey my work, he takes a quick breath in, "Draught of Living Death?"

"No." You murmur. "Just a sleeping potion."

"It's affects?" Snape lifts his eyebrows as if to say _are you joking with me_?

"Its simply a strong sleeping draught, Snape." I grin madly. "I can't quite remember its name… Do you?" He sighs, I really shouldn't mess with him, but its to much fun. I swallow my smile quickly. "It's a sleeping potion, think of it as if dreamless sleep had a child with a very strong sleeping draught." He mostly ignores me, unless I'm brewing, which is constantly, but my love of verbally screwing around always convinced him to move on to a victim, oops, I mean student. I bottle the later, a trepidation tells me I'll be using every last drop.

-()-

Herbology is boring, relaxing, a good time for naps, but boring. A good time for naps, well, my eyes are open, I'm moving around and doing things, but on complete auto polite. Harry has left the building. I really irritate Sprout, but I don't cause trouble and she can't find anything wrong with my work so she can't really say anything about me, and the other students keep her pretty busy. Especially Ron, but Ron keeps everyone busy. He blew up potions, half transfigured tissue boxes, and I'm certain gave Binns a huge headache. He gives me a headache, in a somewhat adoring way. Somedays I tolerate him, others I don't. Like when I'd prefer to not have someone gawking at my scar, I think I'll start combing my bangs over it, I mentioned that to Draco, he said there wasn't much point they hanged in my eyes already.

-()-

I hate Defense against the Dark Arts. Quirrel is pathetic, not the class, he believes that theoretical homework is all we need. And he is such a coward, he gives caves into my every suggestion. I'm getting sick of writing papers and filling out homework, perhaps he'll let me just take the tests and after that give me a free period? Hmm. I smirk slightly as I walk in the room, I like that idea.

-()-

You know, things don't change, Draco is here, so is Hermione and Ron. And I get along with them, and I like them, Ron is so straight forward, simple, and trustworthy, Hermione likes the rules, but I think she'll change her mind, all she needs is a little push, and she'll see how pointless complete mindless faith is. She's smart. Draco is clever and his pure-blood upbringing gives him a confident manner, but he's just as unsure of our 'friendship' as I am. We really just dance around the bad bits, blood purity, muggles, focus on things we agree on. But what separates Draco from Hermione and Ron… Is he seems to think there is something wrong with me, he doesn't say anything, but I know he's keeping an eye on me constantly and he is determined to make me eat, and eat. He seems to know something isn't right, and that alone makes me almost want to stay away from him. But… I can't really stop, I believe it would be best to separate from everybody, but I can't leave Draco alone. I eat with him at least once a day, I eat with Ron and Hermione as well, but he's a consistency.

But the three can't be near one another, arguing, rudeness, they bring the worst of each other out. I'm sick of it, and I imagine one day I'll have to choose. I really should separate. But its hard, the Dursleys hated me, Vernon beat me, did awful, painful things to me, they have smiles and good mornings and adorable expressions of shock when I don't make way for Professors, the look on Ron's face when Snape and I talk, Draco's widened eyes when I argue with Binns, and Hermione just sighes now, she gave up on lecturing me constantly, she does it now and then however.

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><p>Hmm, so did you like it? What do you like about this particular story so far? ? That was a BUNCH OF QUESTIONS POURING OUT OF ME AND EXPRESSING THEMSELVES THROUGH A STREAM OF QUESTION MARKS. ALSO.. Ooops, cap lock. I seem to hit it instead of "a" a lot... And I'm far to lazy to go and fix it. Hope you enjoy review, I'd love suggestions or <span>constructive<span> criticism, even one of those incredibly original more please's would do. Also, anyone want to beta-read for this story or another story i'm working on?


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